


Five Minutes of Help

by Distraktion



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Gen, PRT Call Center
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Distraktion/pseuds/Distraktion
Summary: Some days at the PRT's Montreal Call Centre are boring. This wasn't one of them.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Five Minutes of Help

“Liam...did you sleep at all last night?” Noah caught his friend as the other man nearly toppled over, getting a wan smile in response. Liam looked exhausted, his skin pale and together they managed to stumble over to one of the chairs in the break room. The Montreal PRT office wasn’t exactly plush, but they had nice chairs and amenities at least. “What happened to you?”

“Ugh, I got caught up helping Mum clean out her garage yesterday.” Liam wiped at his forehead, smiling as his friend jogged to the break room’s coffee vending machine. Noah slipped a loonie into the machine and hit the buttons for Liam’s favorite blend. “She barely remembers the year’s 2008, but somehow never forgets my days off. Had me up all night moving boxes, taking a look at her pipes, cooking dinner, and then I was forced to spend the night on her lumpy couch.”

“Well, it still sounds like you had a better night than I did. Yes, I know, I talked it up all week, but when have things ever gone according to plan?” Noah leaned against the wall, waving as a few other PRT agents entered and put their lunches in the fridge. He had a reputation as a rather nice fellow, and they greeted him before heading off to work. “So much for our anniversary.”

“What, Aria didn’t show up? What...um, what happened to her?” Liam coughed, rubbing at his face and straightening his uniform. Though they mostly worked phones, Director Tremblay was known for walking the cubes on occasion to make sure everyone was at least in a button-up and slacks. “You two aren’t having trouble, are you? I could talk to her, we’ve been friends since-”

“No, it’s nothing like that. Although if there were anything, you’d tell me about it, right?” After getting a confident nod from his co-worker, Noah returned with a steaming cup of coffee. As Liam sipped it gently, his friend began to talk. “I had this whole romantic dinner planned for our anniversary, not just because Valentine’s Day is so close. The meal went great, but then she got a call and said she had to run out. Told me to keep the bed warm, kissed me, and…”

“And?”

“She never came back. I started to get worried.” Noah lowered his voice, glancing about and seeing how nervous his best friend looked. Good ol' Liam, always concerned for his friend! “I called her co-worker Jenn, texted her parents, and was about to call you. But she got so mad last time this happened and it turned out her phone had just died, that in the end I went to bed. Now I’m wondering if I should have done more-”

“Dude, I think you just need to accept that women are mysterious and confusing.” Liam stood suddenly, slapping his friend on the back with one hand and tossing his empty cup with the other. He missed the trash can by a mile, but was already walking towards the office by then. “One of the reasons I’m still single! Don’t worry so much, I’m sure she’ll text you to apologize!”

Noah sighed again, moving to clean up Liam’s mess...and tidy the break room up while he was at it. Cleaning like this, helping people, was the reason he’d joined the PRT in the first place a few years back. He’d been alongside Liam ever since, trading his skills with paperwork and order for assistance with things like dating or having fun. The other fellow was great at both, introducing Noah to his friend Aria and not being surprised at all when they hit it off. Suddenly, Noah had a use for his paycheck for something other than savings...and Aria loved him for it.

As if summoned by his thoughts, he suddenly got a text from her that she was fine, and had just gotten caught up in helping a friend. She promised to make it up to him, sending a picture of herself smiling, and he sighed happily. Looks like he’d just been overreacting again, after all!

“From that goofy grin on your face, looks like I was right telling you to be patient.” Liam slipped his phone into his desk as Noah finally arrived, taking his seat and blushing slightly. They’d been sharing a cube for well over a year now, and once again it appeared his friend had been right on the money. “Guess we’d better get to it. Time to save some lives, or whatever.”

Both put on their headsets, opened new logs on their computers, and hit the red button that started their shift. The monitor beside their cube flipped on, letting any supervisors walk by and see that they were hard at work. It was an extra layer of transparency, something that helped ensure nobody got overwhelmed and absolutely no caller ever slipped through the cracks. 

The phone rang, and Noah put on a smile as he answered with as much cheerfulness as he could muster. Maybe it was someone in Pointe-Claire, certain that their neighbor was secretly a villain Tinker and not just a gearhead. Perhaps another prank caller, like that fellow who called every week to claim he’d seen the Simurgh. You never knew, with this job…

“PRT Montreal, this is Noah. How may I help you today?”

There was a sigh from the other end, and what sounded like someone laughing.

“ _Hello, I’d like to report a serial killer. He already has several victims, and will kill again tonight._ ”

Noah’s hands slipped off the keyboard.

***

“ _Hello?_ ” 

One of the skills Noah had gained over the years was the ability to tell the difference between a serious call and a prank. The tone of their voice, background noise, other people nearby, and a hundred other details that all helped determine whether or not he was being taken for a ride.

“ _I only have five minutes to help you, so if you’re going to spend it like this, it’s your loss._ ”

She was young, maybe in her mid-teens, but trying to sound a little older. The sound of clinking cutlery and glass in the background told him this was probably a restaurant...no, that was a bird, so it was an outdoor café. No cars, so probably pretty fancy, and he could just make out a younger voice nearby talking to an older male. If it was a prank, it was being done in public...

“ _There goes another ten seconds, are we doing this or what?_ ”

“S-sorry.” Swallowing his uncertainty, Noah’s fingers danced over the keyboard, and he quickly filled in what little detail she’d given so far. “Can I get your name, ma’am? It’s...policy.”

“ _Ugh, fine. Call me…_ ” She trailed off, and he heard a crackle as she covered the phone with a hand. There was laughter, the young voice saying something, and a piece of silverware clattering to the ground. “ _-lucky it was a butter knife I threw. Fine, call me Honey._ ”

“Honey?” Noah wanted to scoff, but he still wrote down the obviously fake name. “Last name?”

“ _Darling._ ” Her voice sounded lighter, like it was some kind of joke, but he still recorded the name ‘Honey Darling’ and a few other notes. “ _Now, as I was saying, serial killer. He lives at the corner of Brunswick and Delmonte, third floor. Very angry at redheads, because one spurned him in high school, so he kills one every few months to feel better about himself._ ”

“How do you know this?” Noah lowered his voice, trying to project a sense of calm and caring, suddenly worried about the older male voice in the background. “If he’s nearby, cough twice.”

“ _Is he...oh, you’re being…_ ” Honey broke off to laugh, whispering something he couldn’t make out as her hand covered the phone again. While she tittered, he sent the tip off to the police, with an urgent attachment of the conversation thus far. Suddenly, her voice came back with a breathless quality to it, “ _Oh, Noah. You truly are a gentleman, aren’t you?_ ”

“Just trying to help, Ms. Darling. Information like this, if it’s real, isn’t exactly something that comes easy.” He suddenly thought of Aria, a redhead he loved deeply, and was glad she’d texted him earlier. If not for that, his panic would have just doubled a moment ago. “Perhaps come down to the station? Any other details you can give us would be a big help.”

“ _Oh no, my father has a strict policy about that sort of thing. Why, I had to go through so much to even escape the house for a few hours, the PRT is right out._ ” Honey sounded sad for a moment, and he hoped that he hadn’t made her regret spending her time calling him. Aria sometimes had the same tone, and it made him worry about...no, stop thinking about that.

“Well, we’d still appreciate any other tips you might have.” Noah tried to shut out his own worries and instead glanced at the clock on his computer. Trying to project a bit of humor, he added, “After all, I wasted so much of your time, and five minutes doesn’t last very long...”

“ _Fair enough, Noah. In that case, let’s call this the lightning round._ ” She took a deep breath, and all background noise vanished. “ _I’m going to go fast, so I hope you’re recording this._ ”

What followed was a rapid-fire list of names, locations, and crimes. Some had already happened, and Honey claimed that the perpetrators felt a mix of regret and pride. Others she claimed would happen soon, as rage built up like a volcano getting ready to erupt. Some weren’t even crimes, but just unstable people in positions of power...and some were even capes!

Noah was typing madly, sending off reports and urgent messages to everyone he could. Liam had come around to his side to watch, knowing better than to interrupt someone on a roll, and even their supervisor had stopped by to take a peek.

The crowd around the cube grew, and Noah tried not to think about the fact that dozens of people were probably staring at him. But Noah was like a machine, all his years of experience coming to the fore as he handled the workload with fingers that never stopped. Reports, details, cases, police, PRT, Protectorate...he felt like a superstar, winning the big game for his team!

Noah felt a thrill of pride running through him rather than the normal nerves that wracked him when under close scrutiny. He’d done more in just five minutes than most of them did in an entire eight hour shift. If even a few of these checked out, he was looking at a raise at the very least...perhaps even a promotion. Aria would be so proud of him, he was sure of it!

“ _-but he loves rescuing people so much that he often picks them up, flies them into the air, and drops them. The man’s a drunkard, and even now he’s three sheets to the wind in the middle of the day._ ” Honey was panting, and he heard her take a sip of something before adding, “ _He just passed out atop Saint Joseph’s Oratory, so have fun trying to pick him off the steeple_.”

A warm feeling went through him, recalling the date he’d gone on with Aria a few months back. How she’d said that she always dreamed of getting married somewhere like that. Perhaps now he could finally afford to make that a reality, to give her the life of happiness she deserved. So she’d never vanish into the night again, and stay by his side for the rest of their lives.

“ _So, your five minutes are up._ ” Honey sighed, her voice a little bit raw, but something else in her tone he couldn’t quite read. He wished he could do more for her, and heard her giggle slightly. “ _Damn, you really are a nice guy, thinking about me even now. I think you deserve a gift._ ”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Ms. Darling.” Noah was exhausted, but knew that with his supervisor nearby accepting gifts was bad form. “I’m just happy you called us. Even five minutes of your time have probably saved a lot of lives, and we’re all very thankful for that.”

“ _Yeah, but my five minutes are up, so I’m back to being myself._ ” The voice twisted slightly, and Noah felt a chill run down his spine. “ _Let’s talk about your co-workers and your girlfriend. You deserve to know how they’re all pretty much treating you like shi-_ ”

***

It only took two minutes to explain to Noah that his best friend was banging his girlfriend, his girlfriend was using him for his money, and the two had been playing him for over a year. Both pitied him, but felt no shame in taking advantage of his kindness or huge heart. She found it hilarious, but had to admit that he’d been halfway decent, so she’d give him a freebie.

Plus, Noah’s emotions, which had previously been a light orchestral number, slowly morphed into something much louder. It sounded like a hurricane had picked up the entire orchestra, all the instruments smashing into each other. His coworkers sounded like pitying violins and self-righteous french horns, so she decided to be magnanimous and share the love.

Before she could get much further than his best friend’s herpes and his supervisor’s coke habit, someone decided to cut her off and hang up. Oh well, she’d certainly done her part, judging by the applause coming from across the table. It was so rare that he was this happy, especially after what Father had put him through, so Cherie let the boy have his fun.

“Brava! Most impressive!” Her little brother, Jean-Paul, clapped his hands merrily and mimed throwing flowers at her. She blew him a kiss, faking a grand bow, but not so low that her hair dipped into her slice of cake. “Five minutes of helping people, just like a true hero!”

“Wow, calling me a hero after I snuck you out here, bought you a cake, and agreed to play your little game? Perhaps you’ve had enough fun for one birthday...” Cherie plucked her brother’s glass from his side of the table and finished it off. Instantly his lower lip stuck out, as the boy began to apologize. After a moment, she gestured for an elderly waiter he'd been chatting with earlier to pour him another.

“Thanks, Cherie!” Jean-Paul took a sip of his red wine, setting it down and using his fork to take another big bite of cake. He started talking, mouth full of icing. “Just think, next year I’ll be a teenager too! Then we can hang out all the time, and sneak out like this anytime we want!”

“Well, that’s only if you survive that long, little brother.” Cherie stared at him, then rubbed her hands together eagerly as he paled slightly. “After all, it’s my turn now!”

Jean-Paul swallowed heavily, staring at his sister as she asked...

“Truth or Dare?”

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me when joking around with others about how useful Cherish could be with a city-wide emotion-sensing power...if it weren’t for the fact that she’s a murderous sociopath. I wagered that if she was ever going to help someone, it would be by accident or as a Dare. Given that this is taking place in 2008, maybe she's just a tiny bit less horrible, as well.


End file.
